


In the Dark

by Miss_Vile



Series: The Summer of Smut [8]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hate Sex, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Rimming, Trapped, Turns out kinda soft not sure what happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25066102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: Edward assumed the guards would tighten up their security after his failed escape earlier that day, but they hadn't bothered. Just like every night since his capture, all he had was the flickering candlelight and the maddening echo of dripping water to keep him company. Though, now he at least had someone to share that unnaturally damp hellhole with that wasn't just an angry voice in his head....And that someone was smiling like some demon in the dark.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: The Summer of Smut [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787152
Comments: 19
Kudos: 77





	In the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This one took an annoyingly long time to finish but it's heeeeere! Only one more to go!

“How did you survive?” Ed growled.

“In shooting me, Ed, you gave me something to live for,” he smirked,  _ “Revenge.” _

“Yes...” he wet his lips, “Unless...”

He lunged forward and grabbed a fistful of Oswald's jumper before tugging him closer. His head collided with the metal bars at the same time his teeth clacked with his former friend's. The kiss was brief. Violent. If this was another hallucination, it was certainly more vivid than the ones he had before.

He felt a hand press against his chest and push. The Riddler wiped his mouth on his sleeve as he stumbled and locked eyes with the very  _ real _ Oswald Cobblepot.

“WHAT?!” the man shrieked, wiping his mouth and tongue on the sleeve of his woolen jumper and making all manner of offended noises.

“Just making sure you're real,” Ed pressed his fingers into his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

“And you chose to do  _ that?  _ Why in the  _ hell  _ was that necessary?!” his voice echoed off their metal confines. It made Ed's ears ring.

“You are  _ very _ difficult to kill. More cockroach than Penguin.”

“Are you seriously just going to sidestep my question, Ed?”

“Don't you dare call me  _ Ed. _ I'm the Riddler and I became him when I killed you.”

“Newsflash, Ed: I'm. Not. Dead!”

“That's true,” he chuckled, “For now.”

“I came back from the dead to kill you, Ed,” his eyes were aflame. Ed always liked how rage looked on him. It was far more flattering than any of his opulent accessories.

“And ended up a prisoner yourself,” his voice came out more sultry than he meant it to. He was aiming for intimidation rather than… whatever  _ that _ was.

“You really think a little steel and concrete is gonna stop me?” he scoffed and coiled his fingers around the cold metal bars of the birdcage, “The way I see it, I have you  _ just  _ where I want you.”

* * *

After several hours and a failed escape attempt, Edward decided to just settle in for the night. There wasn't a clock, but he could roughly estimate the time based on the amount of light spilling in from the windows. He guessed that it was close to five o'clock which gave him a little less than an hour’s worth of light to try and formulate another plan.

Kathryn had underestimated him and made the foolish mistake of showing him just enough of the facility that he could memorize the path out if he needed to flee. If his lockpick had not been confiscated, he could have maneuvered through the blackness and safely made it outside. Unfortunately, Oswald's presence made that an impossibility. Even  _ if _ the guards kept up their usual habit of not routinely checking in on their prisoners once the sun went down, that didn't mean that his former friend wouldn't alert them if he heard the cage open… and Oswald was a notoriously light sleeper.

“You never did answer my question,” Oswald’s fingers idly drummed against the cage.

“Which one?” Ed's pained expression gave his frustration away. He'd hoped that Oswald would have forgotten about it in his anger. No such luck.

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Don't try and complicate things,” Ed pressed his back against the bars and looked away.

“If you had wanted to kiss me before, you could have just asked,” he teased.

“I didn't love you back, Oswald. I'm pretty sure I made that fact  _ very _ clear.”

“You're right. You did  _ not  _ love me back,” he sauntered forward, “Which makes you kissing me all the more confusing.”

“What do you expect me to say?” Ed clenched his teeth.

Oswald licked his lips and narrowed his gaze, “At first, you were convinced that I was a figment of your imagination. That's why you chose to kiss me. Which leaves me wondering: Do you treat  _ all _ of your hallucinations that way or just the ones of  _ me?” _

Ed felt his face flush as the image of Oswald bathed in red light and peeling off his clothes entered his mind.

“Don't flatter yourself,” his voice cracked. He knew that he wasn't always the best liar under pressure. He had obvious tells and Oswald knew them all.

The Penguin smirked.

* * *

The sun went down and the guards did their final checks of the area. They made sure to pat Ed down for any other items he might have hidden in his jumper. He held out his arms and glanced over to the cage beside him where Oswald was also being attended to.

Ed bit down on his lip as he watched the guard slide his club up Oswald’s thigh and give him a  _ look. _ Oswald winked before slowly lowering his arms and pressing out the wrinkles in his jumpsuit-- like he was giving the guard some sort of _ show _ . Oswald cleared his throat when the younger man’s gaze lingered longer than was polite.

Edward felt his nostrils flare as he burned a hole in the back of the simpleton’s head as he secured the cages and locked the door to their dungeon. He hated how, even now, that jealousy would flare in his gut and twist his insides.

“How long have you been trapped here?” Oswald asked once the echo of the guard’s footsteps had faded.

“Long enough to know that their security is a joke,” Ed chuckled before spitting out the coiled spring he had hidden under his tongue, “They rely on the cages to keep us locked up. Luckily, I'm smarter than them,” he twisted the bit of metal into a serviceable lockpick.

“Not smart enough if you think that I won't just scream and have them club you again.”

“I wouldn't mind hearing you scream,” Ed spoke without thinking.

All of the color drained from his face the moment he realized he'd said that out loud.

“Excuse me?” Oswald's mouth hung open.

“I...uh...” Ed shifted his weight, “I meant that... you could scream all you want. It won't make any difference.”

“That is  _ not _ what you said.”

“Sounds like you need to clean out your ears,” he nervously adjusted his glasses.

“And it sounds to me like you are still drowning in denial, Ed.”

“I should have shot you in the head,” Ed groaned as he pressed his forehead against the metal. He felt like he had a fever and the coldness at least offered some relief, however fleeting.

“Yeah? Why didn't you?” he asked.

“I...don't know.”

“For a man of such high intellect, you really are an idiot.”

Edward glared at him. He felt like his teeth were going to crack. Frustration gripped him tightly as he found himself lost in Oswald’s stare. How  _ dare  _ he look at him so softly in these circumstances.

“That was always a skill you never excelled at,” Oswald continued with a sadistic smirk.

“What's that?” Ed spat, his eye twitching slightly.

“Thinking on your feet,” he explained, “Everything has to be meticulously plotted to your satisfaction. You then convince yourself that you have all of your bases covered but, once presented with a question you hadn't thought needed to be answered, you fail to adapt.”

The early evening light shifted to a golden hue and Ed  _ hated _ how much it reminded him of the light from the fireplace. He hated how it reminded him of that fleeting thought that Oswald might kiss him then. How his brain turned to static and he lacked the capacity to act and redirect the course of events when it turned out to only be a hug.

“First, it was that time you allowed yourself to be tricked by Jim Gordon. Then when I refused to give you over to Barbara. And now...”

“And now?” Ed swallowed.

“And now you can't even come up with a believable excuse for why you didn't shoot me in the head,” he chuckled, “You could have said anything. You could have said that you wanted me to suffer longer which is why you aimed for my gut. You could have said that you wanted to watch the life drain from my eyes. You could have said  _ anything,  _ yet here you are stumbling over your own words and telling me  _ 'I don't know.'  _ Even you have to admit that is rather pathetic.”

“Don't pretend like you have me all figured out.”

“Don't I though?” Oswald winked.

“No!” he yelled, “You don't! I wasn't a person to you. I was just another one of your things that you could use and manipulate on your path to power.”

Oswald's eyes widened at the sudden shift in their power dynamic. Edward took a step forward and jammed a finger towards his chest.

“Admit it: Even _ if _ Isabella had never come between us, you would have still found a way of hurting me eventually.”

“Well, I guess we'll never know for sure, will we?” he glared.

Ed, disgusted, turned back towards the bleakness of his own cage and lamented the irony of where he was-- yet another avian-themed prison for him to wallow in. He wasn't looking forward to spending another sleepless night on the cold hard floor. He groaned as he went over a list of escape plans and their probabilities for success.

“At least you admit she came between us,” Oswald muttered.

Edward kept his back facing him. He didn't want the man to see the look on his face-- The hurt. The frustration. The vulnerability of it all.

“I do often wonder how things would have turned out if you hadn't of stood me up.”

“Stood you up?” Ed frowned and tried to replay all of his interactions with his former best friend.

“At dinner,” Oswald's voice was softer than it had any right to be, “When I was going to confess to you how I felt.”

“Do  _ not _ make me the villain in this story,” Ed spun around. Of  _ course _ Oswald was going to tell him then.

“Isn't that what you wanted? To be the villain?” Oswald rested his arms over the bars and seemed to be concentrating on a rough bit of skin around his nail bed. His voice cracked as he continued, “It's why you took it as far as you did.”

Edward swallowed. How was he supposed to answer him? How was he supposed to confess that he was out for his own destruction as well as Oswald's? That he wanted to tear down those bridges and prove that he was strong enough. That he could be just as cunning and Oswald’s equal even if it meant leaving his friend and his complicated feelings for him behind.

Edward assumed the guards would tighten up their security after his failed escape earlier that day, but they hadn't bothered. Just like every night since his capture, all he had was the flickering candlelight and the maddening echo of dripping water to keep him company. Though, now he at least had someone to share that unnaturally damp hellhole with that wasn't just an angry voice in his head.

...And that someone was smiling like some demon in the dark.

“What?” Ed glared

“Oh… nothing,” his smile widened, “Just thinking.”

“I wasn’t aware you were capable,” he scoffed.

“What’s it like knowing that you were wrong?” Oswald’s smile never wavered.

“Wrong about what?”

“I warned you that shooting me would change you.”

“You were right about that,” Edward stalked forward and glared down at him, “Now I’m the Riddler.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Oswald fluttered his lashes, “I told you that doing so would be the cold-blooded murder of someone that you loved. That it would change you. Break you.”

“I don’t love you,” he regurgitated his own words from the pier.

“Perhaps not,” Oswald raised an eyebrow, “but you did want me. I’d argue you still do.”

“You… You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ed felt his heart thrum wildly in his ears.

“Then prove me wrong,” the palm of Oswald’s hand snaked its way up Edward’s chest and towards the button of his collar, “Tell me to stop. Push me away. Anything.”

Edward grabbed him by the wrist-- immediately halting his movements. The raven-haired man looked up at him, but the expression there was not one that Ed assumed he’d find when they locked eyes. Spots of color crept into his cheeks and his eyes were shining. Despite his bold accusations and actions, he was just as vulnerable as Ed was.

Ed’s grip loosened.

“How often did you imagine this?” Oswald said as he dragged the zipper down to Ed's navel.

“Stop talking,” Ed growled through clenched teeth.

“I can think of a number of ways you could get me to stop talking,” he winked, “but demanding that I do is not one of them.”

Oswald's cold hand penetrated the warmth of the woolen jumpsuit. His deft fingers glided across his skin and left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. It was like Oswald was entirely made of ice and Ed was slowly being frozen under his touch. Like his veins were filled with peppermint and his skin had become stone.

Edward shook the jumpsuit off of his shoulders and shivered. There was a reason they were made out of wool. He felt like he was in a freezer. Oswald took advantage of his momentary lapse in concentration to place a kiss near his clavicle. Edward hissed at the sudden warmth like it scalded him.

“On your knees,” Ed told him, his voice thick and husky.

Oswald rolled his eyes and slowly made his way to the floor. All the while wincing at the pain in his leg. Ed smirked. He knew that this position would hurt him and was all the more enamored by his perceived compliance.

Ed strained against the bars of the cage and wished they would just dissolve so he could grab and pull at as much of Oswald as he wanted. He held onto the bars and closed his eyes as he tried to compartmentalize all of his thoughts. A gasp poured from his lips when he felt Oswald mouth over his erection through the cotton fabric of his boxers.

The guards had taken his suit and left him with nothing but his underwear-- a pair of green boxer-briefs and a white tank top-- under the jumpsuit they provided. He swallowed thickly at the idea that they had allowed Oswald to do the same. It would certainly explain the flirtatious behavior from the guard earlier. He assumed that, even with everything that's happened, Oswald's  _ particular _ taste in undergarments hadn't changed.

Edward looked down at Oswald as he placed kisses along the bulge and slowly tugged at the elastic. He sprang free and Oswald made no hesitations as he swirled his tongue around the head.

"Did your hallucinations do this for you?" he smirked, "And were they as good at it as I am?"

“N-No…” Ed went white-knuckled, “I always tried to push it out of my mind.”

“I was dead. Why continue to deny yourself?” he lapped at the bundle of nerves just below the head.

“Ah!- I… um…” Ed took a calming breath, “That’s precisely why. You were dead… why continue to think about it?”

Oswald bobbed his head and hummed in understanding.

“I just wanted to move on,” Ed closed his eyes and tried to ignore the confusing myriad of emotions he was experiencing.

“But your subconscious had other plans?” Oswald asked between the strokes of his hand and mouth.

“Yes…” Ed grit his teeth-- at the sensation as well as the unbidden confession.

Oswald hummed again and it took every ounce of the Riddler’s willpower not to come undone. No matter how hard he thrust his hips, he was still unable to reach the back of Oswald's throat like he wanted. He desperately wanted to dominate him, but the sharp pain and bruising around his thighs and pelvic bone proved to be an annoying reminder of the steel bars in his way.

Oswald chuckled at the display before relaxing on his haunches. He winced at the pain but his mouth hung open in an obscene illustration of his want. The tip of Ed's cock was just barely able to reach that pocket of warmth at the end of his tongue.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Ed rolled his eyes.

“Not as much as I could be,” he raised an eyebrow before slowly rising to his feet.

He wrapped his hand around the back of Ed's neck and pulled him down for an awkward kiss. They couldn't quite find a satisfying angle because of the bars, but they made up for it with heat and enthusiasm.

Oswald's other hand worked on the button of his own jumpsuit. He took a step back as he slowly undid the zipper. Ed bucked his hips at the air and groaned at the cold air around him. He hated how much control Oswald still had over him-- dead or alive.

“Is this what you saw when you thought about me?” the wool cascaded down to the floor as Oswald stripped it away from his shoulders and down his arms.

Ed salivated at the sight that greeted him.

Oswald always found the compression of a well-tailored waist cincher and garter belts comforting. He had quite the collection hidden in his wardrobe-- An assortment of lace, leather, and elastic straps for any occasion. He had more pairs of lacy underwear than he did ties. Not that Edward counted them, necessarily...

  
  


The dark-colored elastic straps hugged all of Oswald’s curves. The fabric was sheer and the contrast accentuated his complexion-- even in the poor light.

  
  


Ed could see the outline of his erection through the lingerie and felt his breath hitch at the back of his throat. He’d imagined Oswald like this before when his brain was drowning in whatever concoction of uppers Barbara Kean had given him but even those visions couldn’t prepare him for the real thing.

Oswald pressed his ass against the steel and gasped at the sudden cold. He raised his arms above his head and held onto the cage while Ed lowered himself to his knees.

  
  


Edward took a moment to admire the plump mounds of flesh that he previously had only thought about having in the palm of his hands. Oswald groaned as Ed’s fingers massaged his backside. He dragged his thumb down the cleft of his cheeks and reverently moved the fabric aside.

  
  


“You had better be as good with that tongue in this context as you are with wordplay or I am going to be disappointed.”

  
  


Edward rolled his eyes before trailing his tongue over his entrance. He chuckled at how it made Oswald’s entire body shake. Ed, anticipating his movements, gripped him by the thighs and pinned them firmly against the cold steel. Ed desperately wanted to stroke his own neglected cock, but he refused to let go of what little control he’d gained.

  
  


He loved how his tongue made Oswald squirm. He waited until his short gasps reached the pitch and volume that signaled he was getting closer to the end of his rope before pulling away. He pressed his fingers into Oswald’s flesh-- bruising him, marking him-- and glanced down at his own twitching cock.

  
  


“Don’t you dare stop now,” Oswald whined.

  
  


Edward trailed his right hand up and over Oswald’s stomach while the other teased at the saliva-slicked entrance of his body. He carefully inserted one finger and allowed the man to get used to the intrusion. They didn’t have any lubricant at their disposal, so Ed would have to take his time. Or he didn’t. He could always take what he wanted. Though, while the thought did cross his mind, the ability to pull these sounds out of the vicious kingpin was far more enticing.

  
  


He opted to take his time and was rewarded with a symphony of  _ oh god’s _ and  _ right there’s _ and  _ just like that’s _ before he had sufficiently worked him open. There was only one thing he desperately wanted to hear from the other man before he continued.

  
  


He ran his hand up Oswald’s back and carefully guided him until he was bent over. It took an absurd amount of restraint not to just press in before making his request.

  
  


“Say my name,” he exhaled a steadying breath.

  
  


“E-Ed,” Oswald whimpered.

  
  


Edward rewarded him by pulling on one of the garters and snapping it across his flesh, causing him to yelp.

  
  


“That’s  _ not _ my name!” he teased both of them further by pressing his tip past the breach before pulling back abruptly, “Try again.”

  
  


“You have to  _ earn _ me calling you that ridiculous name,” he wiggled his hips.

  
  


“Then we’re at an impasse,” Ed hissed, “I’ll just have to try my luck with you later.”

  
  


“Assuming there will even _ be _ a later,” Oswald scoffed, “Once we’re out of here, nothing is going to stop me from hunting you down again and killing you.”

  
  


“Barbara Kean rules the Underworld. You have nothing. How do you hope to win?” he slid his cock between his cheeks and restrained a growl at how good it felt.

  
  


“Actually, I have an army of Hugo Strange’s monsters at my command,” he chuckled, “But, even if I was alone, you wouldn’t stand a chance against me.”

  
  


“You always find a way. Don’t you, Oswald?” he purred, “It always was one of your more attractive qualities.”

  
  


“I don’t suppose I could entice you to get on with fucking me with my  _ other  _ attractive qualities?”

  
  


“You might be able to persuade me,” he chuckled and repositioned himself.

  
  


“How about this,” Oswald pressed the palm on his hand against the concrete floor, “We continue and I’ll agree to a ceasefire until the two of us are safely out of these cages and on the outside.”

  
  


“Are you proposing working together in order to escape?”

  
  


“I am,” he shook his ass, “And, as an added bonus if you do such a good job, I  _ might _ say your name.”

  
  


“Done,” Ed entered him without any preamble and laughed at how it made Oswald scream.

  
  


He hissed through his teeth at how Oswald's muscles tightened around him. The force of his thrust nearly knocked him over, but Ed held onto the waistband of his garter belt to keep him stabilized.

  
  


“Don’t scream too loudly or you’ll alert the guards.”

  
  


“I thought... you wanted... to hear me scream,” he panted, “Besides, I saw your little broadcast. You enjoy an audience.”

  
  


“Not for this,” Ed pulled out and then slowly reentered and allowed them both to get used to the feeling, “Only I get to see you like this.”

  
  


“Too bad the guards already got a little peak when they made me give up my suit.”

  
  


Edward clenched his teeth and couldn’t help but rock his hips. His mind was clouded and all he could think about was claiming Oswald in that moment. The prospect of torturing and murdering those guards on their way out only added to that animalistic urge. A part of him wondered if Oswald would be willing to share that sort of intimacy with him again. Given the circumstances, that outcome seemed rather probable.

  
  


Unless, of course, this was all simply a tactic used against him to get his guard down…

  
  


The notion that he was falling for a trap made his momentum nigh violent and pulled more screams from deep within his former friend’s insides. Now wasn’t the time for calculating inevitabilities as he felt himself unable to maintain a steady rhythm with his fitful thrusts.

  
  
  


“F-Fuck… Ed…” Oswald pawed at the cold floor in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, but he remained inelegantly bent over and at Edward’s mercy.

  
  


Ed’s relentlessness and acquiescence of any lingering injury removed the last of his barriers. He grabbed the elastic of Oswald’s garter belt in his fist and used it as leverage to pound into him more forcefully. Seams popped and the fabric began to tear but neither man cared as they both panted and snarled.

  
  


The Penguin mumbled something between his feral moans.

  
  


“What was that?” Ed managed to get the words out without interrupting his onslaught. 

  
  


“Ri-Riddler…” he purred.

"God, say that again," he cried.

"Riddler! FUCK! Riddler..."

Ed nearly tasted the sound. He swallowed every drop of honey that was offered to him as his vision went white. He came back at the sound of Oswald screaming during his own climax and did his best to keep both of them upright.

  
  


That courtesy proved unhelpful as he felt his knees buckle underneath him the moment he unsheathed himself. The both of them collapsed onto the concrete floor of their cages. Edward rolled over onto his back and gasped for air. Once he felt that he had reasonably caught his breath, he turned to look towards his friend-turned-enemy-turned whatever the fuck  _ this  _ was…

  
  


“Oswald?”

  
  


“Y-Yeah?” his eyes were still clenched shut.

  
  


“We should probably get to work on these locks…”

  
  


“Do you really think you can pick the lock with an old spring?”

  
  


“I’ve opened locks with less.”

“Well, luckily for us…” he reached over and pulled something from the pocket of the jumpsuit on the floor, “I pickpocketed the guard… I have the keys,” he jangled them in the air like bells.

  
  


Ed glared, “You mean to tell me that you could have just escaped whenever you wanted?”

  
  


“Do you really blame me for seizing the opportunity?” he asked.

  
  


“I suppose not,” he confessed.

  
  


With their arms outstretched, their fingers breached the invisible barrier between the cages. Before either of them had realized, they had laced them together and relished the groundedness of it.

  
  


The embers of their mutual hatred lingered but there was no longer any heat from their impotent anger. Their breath halted in their throats as the darkness and looming silence magnified. There was no more afterglow and they suddenly felt… exposed.

  
  


They turned their backs towards each other as they redressed themselves. They spun around. Oswald was the first to speak.

  
  


“You may never love me as I love you, but I do hope we can set aside our differences from here on out,” he held out his hand, “Truce?”

  
  


Edward stared at the man’s hand and took one long stride towards the edge of the cage-- his face breaching the window between the bars.

  
  


“Truce,” he lifted Oswald’s chin until their lips barely brushed against one another, “And I wouldn’t mind exploring this further if you're amenable?”

  
  


“You might be able to persuade me,” he smirked before finally closing the distance between them.

  
  


They were two injured shadows in the dark but, hopefully, time and patience would mend all bullet wounds.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a few formatting blips but it's 4am for me and I'm too lazy to fix it right now lol


End file.
